


Beauty and the Beast

by vaderina



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Dom!Graves, Graves is a bit sinister in his manipulation, Graves is an experienced dom, Grindelwald didn't know he was a sub, M/M, Sub!Grindelwald, The smut never happened
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-03
Updated: 2017-09-03
Packaged: 2018-12-23 12:06:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11989455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vaderina/pseuds/vaderina
Summary: When Grindelwald took Graves as his prisoner he expected wrath, hateful comments, begging and tears. He hadn't expected admonishments for his wrong doings and praise for being good. Despite himself he began to enjoy it and come back for more. Graves only saw his chance to escape.





	Beauty and the Beast

**Author's Note:**

> Not beta read.  
> Characters do not belong to me - only the typos and mistakes.
> 
> This song was heavily influenced by Chase Holfelder's cover of Beauty and the Beast - I still don't know which is which when it comes to Graves and Grindelwald.

There had been many captives and prisoners throughout his career as eccentric, manic world changer but none had been quite as strange as Percival Graves. When Grindelwald had dumped the limp body of the freshly defeated man in his cell he’d thought nothing of it, just another body to harvest information from and impersonate for a short while for reconnaissance. Graves opened his eyes and rather than fear Grindelwald saw a seething rage and disgust, it was something he was sure he could erase quickly. As with any other important prisoner Grindelwald set about seeing to them personally. He let Graves come to slowly and when he was sure the man had enough of his wits about him to appreciate what was happening he began tying him up. Simple cuffs round his wrists which were anchored to the wall with just enough give to give him some movement.

“You ignorant fool.” Graves growled in his ear to no effect. Grindelwald had a lot worse thrown at him over the year, insults, threats, begging. It was all more of the same and he’d learnt to zone it out, to not respond. This was sadly a necessary part to complete his plans, which, if they worked, would mean that perhaps nobody ever had to go through it again. He’d be a good ruler, he’d try to find alternate routes but it wasn’t possible in the current climate. Radical changes needed to be made and this was the only way.

“You’re a disappointment.” Graves’ voice was a low growl, difficult to ignore and his words stung in a way little had in a long time. “I’d expected more from you in a way. Pathetic. I thought you were better.”

He had Grindelwald stilling in his ministrations and he could hear the sharp intake of breath. Graves chanced a glance up. Next to him Grindelwald had stopped, eyes unfocussed and a blush had crept across pale cheeks. It reminded Graves so much of the beginnings of some of his relationships where his partner, his sub, his pet, his treasure, hadn’t yet been trained but had the makings of being perfect. That was the same look, a wild, untamed sub. A plan blossomed in his mind and Graves smirked when shaking hands began to fiddle with the manacles again.

“You’re nothing more than a naughty boy.” He hissed. The chains clunked as Grindelwald hurried to finish what he was doing. “Such a shame. All you seem to do is ruin everything, you don’t deserve this. You should be shown the error of your ways. Made to think over everything you’d done until you realised just how naughty you’ve been.”

Once secured, Grindelwald stepped away as though he’d been burnt. Not looking Graves in the eyes he turned and rushed out of the room, cheeks flaming and he wasn’t sure why. They were only words. It shouldn’t be reason for his eyes sting and his heart to beat faster. The man was his prisoner and had no right to make him feel so small. Furiously he wiped his eyes and resolved to return the next day and make Graves pay for his crimes.

“Look what the cat dragged in.” Graves drawled the next day. Grindelwald determinedly ignored him. “Big boy like you going to take me down a peg or two.”

There was the word again. Boy. He’d not been called that in so long but it always made him shiver. Made him want to be held and protected like he’d never been as a boy. It made him want to live again. Instead of reacting he tried to shake it off, refused to let the words get to him, make him doubt himself.

“I doubt something as pitiful as you could do anything to someone like me. You’d be better off under the care of someone powerful, wouldn’t you, boy?” The last word was emphasised and Grindelwald felt the prick of tear. This wasn’t fair, Graves was his prisoner, his to torment not the other way round. Out of frustration he sent a cruciatus curse spiralling towards the chained man. It hit him and fizzled, Graves let out a grunt but didn’t scream like he’d expected him to. It was enough to make Grindelwald step back in surprise, curse dropping away. After a breath Graves smiled at him all teeth and no happiness.

“Pitiful. You have to really mean something like that to make it work boy.” Panicked, Grindelwald sent another curse flying and this time Graves’ head snapped back against the wall, the tendons of his neck stood out as he bared gritted teeth. Relief flooded through Grindelwald, he could still cast the curse when he wanted to. He let it drop once he was satisfied. Graves lay panting against the wall and after a few breaths tipped his chin down so he could once again stare Grindelwald in the eyes.

“Much better baby boy. I knew you had it in you.” He all but purred despite the echoes of pain. The man standing in front of him trembled at his words. It was a look Graves recognised, one of a rebellious sub trying to refuse his dominant. A thrill went through him at that, he’d always enjoyed winning them over, cajoling them, riling them up and reeling them in with gentle praise. Perhaps he’d found his biggest challenge and by extension biggest reward. Also his escape route, he had no intentions of keeping Grindelwald as his but he needed to tame the man enough to gain his trust. Then, when the man was his to command and he could lure him into the needy, floaty headspace all Graves had to do was waltz through the doors and never look back. It was a good plan, a solid plan and one he might even enjoy executing.

The days when Grindelwald brings him food Graves praises him. Early on he’d noticed Grindelwald’s preference towards being called “boy” and he uses it heavily and drops in other endearments to keep Grindelwald guessing. Each time he was given water Graves called him “sweet thing” and food earned him a “thank you my boy”. The praise slowly sank into him and when Grindelwald realised he was preening he shot out of the room as though he’d been burned. Something wasn’t right, Graves seemed to have a thrall over him. There was nothing for it, Grindelwald spent the whole night working through diagnostics, counter charms, curse breaking and anything else he could think of to try and break whatever it was Graves had done to him. Nothing seemed to work. Every time he thought of the man in the cells and the praise he’d gently offer left his chest warm. Whatever that man had done to him was witchcraft of the most subtle and insidious order. Despite himself the next day Grindelwald took more than just a hunk of bread and water for Graves to eat. He wanted to see the pleased smile directed at him and be praised for doing well. Once Graves saw what was on the tray he didn’t disappoint.

“Thank you my boy.” He said, heartfelt and kind in way that made Grindelwald pull himself up straight with pride. The praise made him feel like he’d done well, like he deserved something. They sat together on the cold hard floor, Graves in his chains just loose enough to be able to feed himself. A hand drifts up towards Grindelwald’s face, held lightly between fingers was a bite sized chunk of the sandwich. It was from the middle of it, no crust, just the soft bread with salad, meat and condiments. How Graves knew it was his favourite part of the sandwich he’d never figure out but as it was Grindelwald tentatively leaned forward and took the offered piece. Opposite him Graves all but purred his praise and it made his eyes snap open. He didn’t know when they had slipped closed – whether it was on the quiet “good boy” as he took the offered food or when the warm fingers had slipped out of his mouth and wetly caressed his cheek. It didn’t matter, he scowled and stood while Graves sat and watched him almost bemused. With an annoyed huff Grindelwald stomped out the room.

Against his better judgement Grindelwald returned the next day with more food. He watched Graves eat and drink, how the chains caught every now and then. In all the time Graves had been his prisoner never once had the man complained, threatened him or lashed out. Instead he was consistent, admonishing and vocal in his disappointment but just as free with his praise. And wasn’t that a ridiculous thought. His prisoner lavishing him with praise. Grindelwald let out a not quite amused huff which drew Graves’ eyes to him with an unvoiced question. Instead of explaining Grindelwald waved him off. That was another strange thing. Since he had visited Graves they’d had civilised conversations where they clashed over ideologies, grand visions and plans for achieving them. Never before had Grindelwald felt so at ease in the company of someone who was meant to be his prisoner. From there it was an easy leap of faith and when Graves wasn’t paying him attention he waved his hands in a silent spell. The manacles fell away from Graves who blinked surprised before a slow smile blossomed over his face. He stood slowly while Grindelwald remained seated, frozen in place.

“Thank you baby boy.” Graves rumbled as he stretched before a hand stroked through Grindelwald’s hair. After a few steps round the room Graves returned to his original seat and grinned. “You’re so lovely that it hurts sometimes you know.”

Grindelwald glanced down to his lap with a pleased little smile. It felt nice to have his hair stroked with such gentleness and he bowed his head, eyes slipped closed as he listened to Graves sink back down onto the floor next to him.

“Open your mouth darling.” Graves’ voice it pitched low and Grindelwald didn’t hesitate to obey. A small piece of fruit was delicately placed on his tongue.

“Close your mouth and savour it.” Came the whisper in his ear and he did as told. “Beautiful. You’re such a sweet, obedient thing for me.”

The words burned through him and had his eyes snapping open. A snarl worked its way through his throat but before he could voice it Graves held up a hand.

“None of that now. Don’t ruin things when they were going so well.” He was stern and foreboding which had Grindelwald swallowing back his grumble in a surprise. Nobody had told him to stop in quite such terms. He wanted to retaliate, to lay into Graves for treating him like some puppet.

“Don’t be a brat.” Graves growled. “I’ll have to treat you like one if you continue and I didn’t think you’d want to be bent over my knees and spanked. Door open so anybody could walk in and see.”

The very idea of that happening brought a flush of humiliation across Grindelwald. Without a word he stood up and walked out because he couldn’t find it in himself to argue with Graves, he wasn’t even sure what he would have said. Because part of him agreed with Graves, he was a brat and he had almost ruined a wonderfully peaceful moment. The instant that thought passed through his mind Grindelwald rebelled. He wasn’t some pet for Graves to chide and admonish. No, Graves was his prisoner and his to break as he wanted. Grindelwald steeled himself and resolved to be more firm when he next went to see the man and actually extract information from him. That’s why he was here, and it was the only thing keeping him alive. Until Grindelwald got all the sordid details the man knew about MACUSA he was useful but after that he was just to be discarded like any other prisoner. They didn’t need another mouth to feed.

When he visits Graves’ cell again the man is standing and facing the door. Even in his captivity he looks commanding, steady and firm. Grindelwald had helped him stay kempt, letting him shave and stay clean. His clothes looked a little ragged, perhaps a little looser than they had to begin with but overall Graves was in a much better condition than most of his prisoners had been even after a few days. This time Grindelwald didn’t bring him food, he wanted to punish the man for daring to assume he was above his station in the grand scheme of things.

“Hello pup.” Graves greets him in a low voice, a soft smile tipped the corners of his mouth up.

“Shut up and listen.” Grindelwald grunts back but somehow his ferocity missed its point, he sounded more petulant than firm.

“Having a bad day are we?” His prisoner approached him with a gentle smile and a raised hand. Fingers tangled into his hair and Grindelwald let out a sigh he’d never been holding. “There you are beautiful.”

With a light tug Grindelwald was enveloped in warm arms, his head cradled in the crook of Graves’ neck and the light was shut out. He was wrapped up and held gently with nothing but the sound of their steady breaths. Time lost its meaning for a bit as they stood there, Graves’ fingers tickling the short hairs on the nape of his neck in a reassuring sweep. Eventually Grindelwald shifted and Graves took a step away to let him blink back into reality.

“Better?”

“Much.” Grindelwald found himself saying in a sight haze. He wanted to rebel and tell Graves where to shove it but his mind was clouded in a pleasant fog.

“Good. My good boy needs time to relax. You drive yourself too hard my precious. Remember you’re always welcome here. Now get going, you’ve got your followers to organise. I’ll be here when you need me again.”

Grindelwald nodded and tried not to bask in the warmth each praise send through him. Instead he turned and strolled through the doors, letting them shut quietly behind him. It was only when he got out of the stairwell which led down into the cells that he realised he never did get to reprimand Graves and extract information from him. Oddly he found he didn’t really care in that moment, too relaxed to worry about much. There was always tomorrow.

Tomorrow which was spent in much the same way, with Grindelwald ensconced in Graves’ arms while the man murmured soft praise in his ear. Each time Grindelwald left he felt lighted, more together and almost more fluid than he’d ever felt before. Almost like he’d found his place in the world and that place was next to Graves.

It becomes almost the norm that he’d go down to visit Graves and the man would be standing there waiting for him, always with a word of praise. Grindelwald would sag into his arms and let himself be held while Graves murmured soft reassurances and almost nonsense to him. When the fingers migrated from the back of his beck to cradle the back of his head in a soft hold Grindelwald felt himself loosen even more and he pliantly let himself be guided to his knees where, with his eyes still closed he rested his head against a firm thigh. Once he realised what had happened he whined in his throat at the displeasure and tried to rise. Yet the hand which was now on top of his head was a welcome anchor and stilled his puny struggles. Graves’ softly crooned praise of him being so good for relaxing and for letting Graves put him there went a long way to help. His whines died in his throat and struggles fell into a lax lean.

There was no need to keep time while he was on his knees. All that mattered was the subtle shift of muscle against his cheek and the steady, even breaths that came from above. The silence was blissful and Grindelwald just floated through existence. It was the gentle scrape of fingers over his scalp and the slight sway of the thigh under him which pulled him back into the present. Gentle hands pulled him up and steadied him until he got his bearings.

“You okay there sweet boy?”

“Yes.” Grindelwald mumbled as the threat of getting lost in his prisoner’s eyes loomed.

“Need a moment before you leave little one?”

The pet names had stopped rankling him a while back and now they only helped to reassure him. Grindelwald nodded and he was pulled into an embrace. It wasn’t as tight or as calmingly still as the used to be, instead a hand wandered in broad strokes up and down his back and it drew him back into the room. Eventually Graves moved away from him with a soft smile.

“Get going dear, you’ll be missed by everyone if you stay a lot longer.”

Obediently Grindelwald left, still a little unsteady on his feet. Kneeling for Graves became automatic almost and the first time he walks up to Graves and lowers himself to his knees without any guidance Graves rewards him with fingers carded through his hair and a stream of praise which leaves him feel as though the slightest of breeze could carry him away. The whispered “good boy” and “such a wonderful pet” float through him and leave warmth in their wake. He’d been good and that’s all that mattered. His Graves was proud of him, he did well and his Graves was happy. Because in his mind Graves had become his in a roundabout way just like he’d become Graves’.

These sessions with Graves left him almost hollow some days in the best of ways. After kneeling and being allowed to just be he felt ready to be filled again with all the crap the world had to throw at him and he knew he could just return to Graves and leave it all with him. It was cathartic in a way nothing had ever been before. He didn’t have a name for it, didn’t even really want to find one as he was just grateful that for some reason Graves was willing to give that to him.

Grindelwald was on his knees again, eyes closed and head heavy against Graves’ thigh. It had been a while now and Graves knew that for the last week Grindelwald hadn’t bothered to lock the door behind him. It was just a simple matter of shushing the man by his feet and stepping away. He ignored the quiet, confused whine as he slowly and quietly padded towards the door, towards freedom. The whimpers behind him grew in frequency and intensity. Graves grit his teeth and reached for the door when the first quiet sob rang through the cell with a small echo. He looked behind him and immediately regretted it. Grindelwald, with his eyes still shut had leaned over onto his hand and knees to support himself, face scrunched in confusion that the warm support had left him. His breathing was erratic, the full force of a drop no doubt washing through him only to leave him a disoriented shivering wreck. Graves’ second mistake was to keep watching the other man rather than turn and walk out. He watched as breaths came harder to Grindelwald, as tears splashed onto the ground and it’s obvious the man, despite opening his eyes, couldn’t see through the tears, the confusion and the panic.

On the floor Grindelwald cried out, the calming balance was gone, his Graves was gone and he couldn’t even hear the even breaths he’d grown so used to marking the passage of time. He was cold, alone and lost in way he’d never been before. Tears came thick and fast as he fought for each breath which caught in his throat. He put his forehead to the cold ground because he’d failed Graves, Graves had left him alone and he doesn’t know what he’d done wrong. Pleas may have fallen from his lips, words formed on a silent voice as he begged. He must have been bad for Graves to have left him but he didn’t understand what he’d done wrong. But he had to have been bad to deserve being left so cold and alone so suddenly. Grindelwald didn’t even know what he was begging for, whether it was the return of Graves, or to be told he hadn’t been bad or even just for the calm to come back, it didn’t matter. The cold spread through him like sinister vines that wrapped around his lungs and heart. He didn’t hear the steps that returned to him, nor did he register the large warm hand rubbing calming circles on his back at first. A hushed voice in his ear broke through his panic.

“I’m sorry baby boy. I shouldn’t have left you. I’m here now doll, I’ve got you.” Graves kept up a litany of platitudes and the warmth from his hand did dispel some of the icicles that had formed in Grindelwald’s core. Hands eased him to his side where his back was pressed into a line of heat as Graves wrapped himself around his boy. Gradually the sobs quiet and even his sniffles were barely audible yet Graves still wouldn’t let him go no matter how much he struggled.

“I’m so sorry little one. So sorry.” Was all he could hear and in the moment he finally struggled enough to turn around, fully prepared to berate Graves. Except he turned, looked into large, brown eyes so full of sorrow and regret that he got lost in them.

“I won’t ever leave you again my dear if you’ll just let me have you again.” Graves muttered as they stared at each other. They lay like that, wrapped around each other and lost to the world for so long that the cold of the floor seeped into them. Grindelwald groaned as he stretched and Graves let him slip from his arms.

“You might as well come up with me.” Grindelwald announced and walked towards the door. He missed the happy grin as Graves scrambled to follow him. There was no longer timeless stretches of time Grindelwald spent kneeling on the cold floors of the cells. Instead, in the confines of his private rooms he had a pillow which was next to a comfortable chair Graves could lounge in. They spent hours like that, but Grindelwald didn’t always get swept away by the calm. Instead they discussed his plans, his methods and sometimes it was infuriating.

“I just want the world to listen.” Grindelwald tried to justify his ideas.

“By ruining the world.” Graves stared down at him from his armchair.

“I would rebuild it again.” He replied petulantly.

“Only bad boy would want to ruin the world.” Graves was steady in his admonishment.

“But-“

“Sssssh. You don’t want to be a bad boy, do you?”

“N-no, but…” A finger pressed against his lips and Grindelwald stared up at Graves lost. He didn’t want to disappoint Graves, he didn’t want to be bad. Since Graves had been out of the cell he’d proved to be rather firm with him. The first time Grindelwald disappointed him, he was put into the corner, facing the wall while Graves quietly read behind him. It had been the most pain free agony of Grindelwald’s life. When he’d sagged into the acceptance of his fate Graves had risen, stretched (he could hear the popping of joints) and softly padded to release Grindelwald from his punishment with a light touch to the back of his neck. For the rest of the evening he was allowed to kneel on his pillow between Graves’ thighs and listen to the man read aloud from one of his books.

There were ideas he’d proposed to Graves which the man seemed keen on. He found it difficult to tell which ideas Graves would reprimand him for and which were worthy of the praise that was rained down on him at times. But as long as he was allowed to kneel by Graves and bask in the warmth of his approval Grindelwald found he was willing to try and do whatever it took to stay there.


End file.
